


haikyuu drabbles

by Masthya



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Multi, will add more if i write the rest of the drabbles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 11:38:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4058587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Masthya/pseuds/Masthya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some drabble requests, will add more</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wanna bet?

“Did you know I can render Bokuto-san to the floor with just a song?”

Kuroo peeked at Akaashi and swiftly turned his head to where Bokuto was picking up a ball to carry on top of the others he was already holding, only to have it fall along with some others, and repeat. Everyone else was helping with the cleaning up after the practice matches, but Akaashi had caught Kuroo’s attention. Bokuto was a well-built block of muscle and unrelenting enthusiasm. The corners of his lips curled; this could be interesting.

He turned to Akaashi. “Don’t believe you.”

“Wanna bet?” Akaashi asked, eyebrows raised and a slight smirk on his face. Now this was a rare sight.

Kuroo snorted. “Yeah, alright. One thousand yen. Show me what you got.”

Akaashi called Bokuto over, who immediately dropped his ball hoard and scampered to them. Kuroo could’ve sworn he even saw Bokuto’s tongue hanging from the edge of his mouth at one point.

Bokuto beamed at being summoned and said “What is it, Akaa-”

“ _Everywhere I turn, I hurt someone_ ” Akaashi sang. “ _But there’s nothing I can say to change the things I’ve done_.”

Bokuto howled. His hands sprang to cover his ears, and he cautiously walked back a few steps. “No! No, no, no,  _no_. _Stop_ …” His legs trembled visibly and in moments he was slumped on his knees. Burly arm muscles wrapped around the burrowing head as he bent down, the same faint “ _no_ ” being repeated over and over.

Stoic as ever, Akaashi didn’t stop singing. The broad shoulders shaking under their noses kept pleading for mercy. Bokuto was by then writhing on the floor and Kuroo was in charge of sweeping there.

Akaashi stopped and they stared at a resigned Bokuto finishing the song in cracked murmurs.

He sobbed and peered at them with a glassy eye “Why are you guys so mean?”

Kuroo had already pulled out his wallet and was handing the money to Akaashi. “Kuroo asked me to show him.”

“ _Well_ , when you put it like that… Fine, I kinda really wanted to see.” He patted Bokuto’s shoulder and reached down to help him up. “I admire you, man. Being overcome by songs the way you are is almost a talent.”

“It’s just -! It’s Disney, man. They were brothers, you know?”

He hung his arm over his friend’s slouched shoulders and nodded at Akaashi with a slight scowl, mouth silently modulating “ _I got this_ ”.

“I know, I know. Come on, big boy. Let’s go over there and you can tell me all about it.”

Akaashi then realized he was left with two brooms.


	2. Boo.

The evening closed in to a worn-out Issei, the usual rustle out in the hall muffled down by the bang of the door after he had entered the room. The small living-kitchen-dining room was dully lit by the street light filtering in through a narrow gap beneath a window’s blinds. Oikawa must have already arrived and taken care of arranging everything for nighttime.

He tossed his bag to the floor and flopped on the couch. Airborne feet wrestled with shoes as Issei patted the couch for the TV remote. Iwaizumi’s fat ass would more often than not burrow it under the couch pillows, and that’s where he fished it from. The brightness of the TV burned his dilated eyes since he had not bothered to turn any light on and he began skipping channels between winks. 

Nothing interesting was on, so he left some American car-racing movie on. That would surely drown out any unsolicited sounds coming from Oikawa’s bedroom in case Iwaizumi was there as well.

Issei recalled him saying he would be late that day, though, and Oikawa was most likely napping from a week of incessant practice matches. Hanamaki had mentioned something about having to lock himself in the library for the weekend. The shared apartment usually meant continious activity and eruptions of laughter at unholy hours, no to mention the side-effect of never truly being alone anymore. But right now, there was virtually no one there.

He let his hand slide down his torso and slowly weaved its way over to his crotch. He allowed himself a little fondling, nothing he couldn’t cover up. His thumb trailed defiant on top of his pants’ seams and began tugging at the edge…

“Boo.”

Issei jumped on his buttocks and swinged his hand as far away from its previous place as physically possible. Hanamaki snickered at him with a shit-eating grin from behind the couch’s back .

Still wide-eyed, Issei spat “Fuck off.”

Maki pouted and pulled his best wet-puppy face “Didn’t you want help with that?” He angled his head down and raised one eyebrow.

“Suck my dick.”

“With pleas-” Maki’s widening grin was cut off by a bolted pillow to his face.

Issei quickly scrambled for another pillow to cover from the imminent attack Maki was aiming for. “Oh, you’ll pay for that…”

Maki hit him but Issei had his legs pulled up, blocking the strike. He kept trying to hold him back with them but Maki managed to dodge him and hurtled himself pillow first on Issei. They kept wrestling the pillows from each other, growling and snorting, legs interwining and hooking.

“NOT ON MY COUCH!” a muffled cry came from Oikawa’s bedroom.

Maki and Issei halted, pillows raised, grinned and scrambled to their knees, aiming for the bedroom door. Oikawa materialized behind it with a swat of the door and ducked the darting pillows. Issei’s heart stopped and a freezing shiver ran at the back of his neck as the pillows hit against something immediately behind Oikawa.

Shit.

 _Iwaizumi_.

Utter terror rained over Issei, his lips a tight line. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Maki cursed under his breath as he clasped Issei’s hand and ushered him out of the apartment, making the couch fall over in their struggle out.

They didn’t look back, but the thumping of some lead-like pursuer’s steps behind them was enough to know they were effectively being chased by Iwaizumi. The hallway was filled with other students and they would bump into them; but that also meant Iwazumi would be hindered by his politeness. Maki was ahead and suddenly skidded to a halt after turning round a corner, Issei inevitably crashing into him. Maki held his ground and opened a door to a very dark room, which they entered hastily.

It was incredibly tight in there and they could barely move without hitting their heads or making something fall over. Brooms stabbed at his back but Issei held his breath, listening intently for the thumping storm to pass by. When it did they both remained silent for a short while, and then released deep sighs, shoulders slumping. He would be able to see the dawn of another day at least.

They stayed inside the broom closet, limbs accommodating and moving stuff around. A broom brushed Issei’s hand and he stroke it a little. He commented teasingly “I remembered it being a lot smaller.”

It was stark dark in there but Issei could almost hear the grin pulling at Maki’s face.

“I knew you were thirsty, you fucker.”

Issei hummed and gently kicked Maki’s leg. “You think I was gonna let you do anything after jumping on me like that? I felt assaulted.” He said with faked hurt in his voice.

Maki gasped. “Oh, you poor thing. I am sorry, I was only being a good chump and interrupted you from jerking it when Oikawa could walk in on you. On  _his_  couch. I prevented a catastrophe.” He gripped Issei’s bicep and added “I should be given a prize.”

“Are we really doing this? Here?” Issei asked, a bit incredulous but fully aware of the answer.

Maki huffed in amusement, hooked his fingers on Issei’s shirt collar and pulled him down to his face, pressing a kiss.


	3. Straight into my arms

As taxing as college got to be, it was no rival to the restless presence of Bokuto Koutarou. Many years had passed since first meeting his acquaintance and Keiji was still completely oblivious about how long it would take until he finally snapped at the owl-crested guy. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to it, but everyone kept nagging him about how they envied his saintly patience. It then only took bare minutes for those people to look past the boisterous person Bokuto first appeared to be and see the way he infected everyone around him with his good humor.

Honestly, Keiji just felt comfortable around him.

Morning classes were done and the late spring midday sun speared down on Keiji as he ambled down the building stairs. He had stayed a little longer after the teacher left the classroom to write down everything on the board and share his semester notes with a classmate sporting a mat of impressively unkempt hair, and now he was late for lunch. His phone had been buzzing persistently for a while now, the tickling sensation on his pocket lulling him.

He entered the cafeteria and found Bokuto almost instantly. Had Bokuto not started waving and calling to him the moment he stepped in, Keiji would’ve had no trouble finding his white stylized hair amongst the other students. There wasn’t a lot of time left until the volleyball club activities began, and Keiji felt a warm flutter in his chest as he approached Bokuto, who was failing at feigning impatience with his unerasable smile.

“Hey! You really took your time! I was about to go to the club alone. Who’s your teacher?” Bokuto began chirping away as he opened his lunch box, “I’m going to have some words with them.”

“It’s not the teacher’s fault, the exam is coming up and my classmates and I were sharing notes.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Bokuto with a mouthful of rice. Keiji covered himself from some projectiles, to which Bokuto snorted. “Sorry!”

Patiently, Keiji wiped some stray rices on his arms and said, “You should’ve gone to the club, though. We’re both going to be late now.”

Bokuto pshawed, this time blocking the incoming rice on time. “Doesn’t matter. Today is such a nice day to be outside, I must take in all I can get.”

“But then why were you inside? There are lots of seats out.” Keiji inquired, one eyebrow raised. He continued eating as Bokuto propped his head on one hand and gazed out the window, humming.

“I guess, I just like the view?” he replied, almost a suggestion to himself. Keiji lowered his chopsticks and looked over to where the window opened to. It was the faculty buildings, tall and grey and not exactly gaze-worthy. He dreaded those narrow halls and stuffy classrooms and didn’t want to have anything to do with them, especially when he had just come out of there. Why would Bokuto…

Realization hit him like a wave of heat and he felt lightheaded. There was a fraction of a moment when he blacked out and regained consciousness, the blurry colors settling into sharp images as he swayed. As soon as it passed he breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, taking in the realness of the table he was grasping. Keiji decided he was done with the food for now, and Bokuto had already finished his lunch in his restlessness.

They got up and headed to the door, Keiji aching to get out of the stifling cafeteria. A refreshing breeze swept him up when he stepped outside, the sudden strike blinking him out of consciousness once again and he saw black, and the ground dissolved under his feet, and he was slipping and falling…

Sturdy arms where wrapped tightly around him when Keiji recovered, and he would have stayed like that for the rest of the day. Soon enough the arms were depositing him gently on the ground, and he heard a small swarm of voices around him, but they were too muffled for him to listen to them, his mind too blurry. Painstakingly, he forced himself to open his eyes, lifting his head to meet a distressed Bokuto, a nervous smile painting his lips. Keiji blinked.

“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” Bokuto whispered.

Keiji huffed amused, immediately regretting it as he winced and closed his eyes.

“Let’s go get you somewhere to lie down. Can you stand up? It’s ok if you can’t I just carry you. Did you get something to drink? I’ll buy you something sweet.”

Keiji nodded and shook his head obligingly, feeling his ears heating up every second inside Bokuto’s warm embrace, and he let himself be pampered by him for as long as he could have him.


	4. Expecting

“Iwa-chan”, a voice at his back startled Hajime, “I…I’m pregnant. It’s yours.”

Hajime sighed. He knew this day would come, and luckily he was ready. He peeked over his shoulder, Oikawa staring at him with a tender smile and softly rubbing a volleyball tucked under his shirt.

“What a coincidence.” Hajime said, and turned around to face Oikawa, a volleyball tucked in the same manner. “I’m pregnant too. But it’s not yours, it’s Hanamaki’s.”

Oikawa gasped in dismay, a hand lifted to cover his mouth. “Iwa-chan, how could you! And with Maki-!”, he pouted glancing at Hanamaki, eyebrows knitted and demanding an explanation.

Hanamaki dropped whatever he was doing and raised both hands. “Hey, I always used protection with Iwaizumi. Besides,” he countered with overly dramatic sorrow, “Iwa-san never made me finish. The baby’s definitely yours, Oikawa.”

Betrayal sinking him in deeper, Hajime bit his lip and shook his head at a snickering Hanamaki who left before Hajime could react in a more violent manner to this treachery. Oikawa was beaming and wiped an invisible tear from his cheek with a finger.

“I’m so happy, Iwa-chan… Now we can get bro-married.”

“And how do we do that, exactly?” Hajime inquired, defeated.

An impish smile cut along Oikawa’s angelic face. “It’ll all be arranged in due time. First, though, we should totally belly-bump."

Hajime agreed, but added in play concern, “Won’t that hurt the little bastards?” , to which Oikawa shrugged.

“Not if they are made of us, Iwa-chan.”

They broadened the space between them, far more than should be safe, and sprinted into a clash of tangled limbs, flying volleyballs, and teeth biting into skin. Hajime was sprawled on the floor, the weight of Oikawa pinning him to the ground, only feeling the taste of blood on his mouth. Soon enough they were both laughing themselves silly, and wouldn’t break away from the other. Oikawa nuzzled into Hajime’s chest as he brushed his hand on Oikawa’s soft hair.

“Let’s not do that again.”

“Agreed.”

Oikawa rested his chin atop his hands, splayed on Hajime’s chest, and eyed him with naked intent. It made Hajime slightly wary.

“But we’re definitely getting married."

Hajime snorted and looked above to the ceiling lights. “Of course.”


End file.
